Cold Walks & Late Night Talks
by Scarletfern
Summary: After being left on a dead-end road in the middle of a forest in Russia, the team desperately attempts to locate their safehouse during a blizzard. Also, team-as-a-family vibes and a bit of Kurt convincing Patterson to get some rest instead of trying to work 24 hours a day.


my last fic of the decade. see you on the flip side :D

* * *

"_Are you sure this is the right way?!_" Reade yelled, fighting to be heard over the roar of the wind.

Patterson ducked behind Kurt, using his body as a shield from the wind so that she could check the directions. "_That's what it says!_"

Two days prior, they had received Intel that Rich was being held in a Russian blacksite and, with some help from Ice Cream, had immediately begun to plan his rescue.

Early that morning, they had touched down on a private airstrip in Siberia to meet up with one of Ice Cream's contacts, who they had been told would drop them off at a safehouse.

Instead, he had stopped his car at the end of a dead-end road, gotten out, and begun to pull their gear out of the trunk, stacking it neatly on the roadside. He then motioned for them to get out of the car and, after exchanging puzzled glances amongst themselves, the team complied.

"Cabin's a short walk through those woods," he had told them, gesturing vaguely into the taiga. "Vlad will meet you there in the morning and get you to the compound where your friend is." He turned away, clearly intending to leave.

"Aren't you coming with us?" Tasha had demanded.

He looked at her as if she'd gone crazy. "No."

"Which way do we go?"

"Oh! I almost forgot." He went around to the other side of the car and retrieved a tablet from the glove compartment. After tapping at the screen for a few minutes, he handed it to Patterson.

"This is where we are now," he said, pointing to a set of coordinates on the screen. "And _this,_" he paused before pointing to the second set of coordinates "is where you are going. Good luck." And then he'd driven away, leaving the five of them standing in the snow in front of a sprawling pine forest that seemed to stretch on forever.

After mumbling some calculations to herself for several minutes, Patterson spoke up. "Guys? We have a problem." She turned the screen around then, showing them the coordinates. "This is eight miles away."

They were halfway through mile five when the blizzard hit.

* * *

Violent gusts of wind brought the snow down in sheets, leaving it nearly impossible to navigate. The trees shielded them partly. It wasn't much, but it was enough to allow them to keep going. Clinging tightly to each other, desperate not to lose anyone in the whiteout, they pressed on.

A few miles later, Patterson brought them to an abrupt halt. "Stop walking. These are the coordinates."

"But there's nothing here."

"What do we do now?"

A mind numbing cold settled over them as they stood together, shivering. If they stayed out here any longer, they would freeze to death.

Suddenly, the wind shifted, enabling them to make out the barely visible silhouette of the cabin up ahead.

They moved as fast as they could, clearing the distance in record time. Hurriedly, they cleared away the snow that had piled up against the door and entered, snow and ice falling off them in clumps.

It was such a relief to be out of the wind that, at first, they didn't notice how cold it was inside.

Kurt found a light switch and flipped it back and forth. "No electricity."

There was a fireplace, though, and firewood.

"Nice place," Reade commented, deadpan, the beam of his flashlight darting around the living room, which appeared to be devoid of furniture.

A cursory search through the other rooms proved the rest of the cabin to be just as unfurnished as the living room. Thankfully, they also found sleeping bags and plenty of extra blankets stacked in a closet.

Soon, they were all huddled together by a roaring fire, the freezing conditions outside almost forgotten.

After they had all warmed up, only one issue remained.

"Whose turn is it to cook again?"

Tasha immediately pointed at Reade.

"What do you want me to do? Roast some marshmallows?" he asked, tossing a pillow at her.

"I saw some MREs in the kitchen," Jane said with a shrug. "We don't need electricity to make those."

Upon his return, Reade teased "Tasha, it's your favorite."

"Nooo," Tasha and Patterson groaned in sync as he held up five packets of Mexican style chicken stew.

* * *

Later that night, Kurt woke up. Something wasn't right... Someone was missing. Someone other than Rich.

He listened carefully.

A noise was coming from the kitchen.

Typing.

_Patterson._

She had taken Rich's absence harder than any of them, working day and night to find a way to get him back. When they had received word on his location, she had gone into overdrive, outlining multiple backup plans, crossing every _t_ and dotting every _i_, refusing to rest until they had a foolproof rescue plan.

Careful not to wake anyone up, he untangled himself from Jane's grip and tucked the blankets back over her before getting to his feet and heading away from the others, towards the sound. The loss of the heat off the fire hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Patterson."

She jumped. "Sorry, I didn't hear you. Is something wrong?"

He shook his head. "You've been over that plan," he paused for emphasis, eyebrows raised, "a million times."

"I- I know, but we can't screw this up. We don't have the wiggle room for mistakes. One chance. That's all we've got."

He sat down on the floor beside her.

"You've done everything you can do for now. And we will get him out. Tomorrow. Now get some sleep, okay?"

She nodded, not meeting his eyes. "I will. Later."

They both knew that 'later' meant either 'going another twenty-four hours without sleep' or 'working until passing out from exhaustion.'

Kurt wasn't going to settle for that.

"If you won't stop working yet, at least come back to the fire. It's too cold in here. You aren't going to wake them up. They're dead to the world."

And back by the fire, listening to the others snoring?

She was asleep in five minutes.

Kurt closed her laptop, tossed a blanket over her, and went back to his sleeping bag beside Jane, who barely stirred at his return, just rolled over and promptly draped herself across his torso.

He looked around at his team once more. Now they were just minus one.

And, with any luck, by this time tomorrow, they'd be minus zero.


End file.
